Page 118 of Veiled Flames
Rosomon
Ican’t believe how good it feels to be touched by Tynan. Touched everywhere, over and over and over.
Earlier, it was me who was impatient to touch him, and also eager to have him rut inside me again, but I’m happy now to let him deliver whatever new pleasures he has planned.
Having my hands bound is proving a bonus. Beyond slight movements of my lower body, and squeezing to hold in the heavy trainers, I’m unable to do a thing, leaving my mind free from decisions and able to concentrate on the delicious sensations.
He rises to look into my eyes, and I become lost in their depths, unable to focus on anything beyond what I see there. In Tynan’s green eyes, I see his confidence, his power and his kindness, his lust, and even better, his pride and admiration for me.
His fingers slide between my legs, and every time he touches the ends of the trainers, my body contracts around them. Eventhough it’s not him inside me, my body’s instant reactions when he nudges the marble, makes me feel connected to this man, to this prince, to this rider of dragons.
Reaching behind me, he tugs on the handle of the trainer in my backside. I moan as he plays with it, and then he pulls it right out.
I gasp. My back hole feels as if it’s still moving, as if it’s calling out to the trainer, wondering where its friend went. Our eye contact breaks for a moment as he sets the trainer down, and then his hand returns to tease the larger marble inside my cunny.
He plays with it again, pulling at it and pushing it deeper, like he did when I was on the bed. The thick part stimulates me beyond compare. And as he continues, he kisses me, gently, and I’m starting to enjoy his tender kisses as much as the ones more ferocious.
Suddenly, he breaks our kiss. He holds my head cupped in one hand and looks deeply into my eyes. “Ready?” he asks.
Before I can respond, he tugs on the trainer, and the bulge pops out of my cunny. I gasp at the sharp pain as the thick portion exits.
“That’s it,” he coos. “That’s a good girl. Well done.” He continues to penetrate me with the slender part of the trainer, and I gasp each time the bulge meets my skin. He presses it forward with some of his movements, so the now heated bulge grazes my sensitive button. My body shakes in response.
Then he pulls the trainer right out, and it clatters on the floor. His hand returns to my cleft instantly, stroking me, soothing me, perhaps testing to see how sensitive and sore I’ve become.
I am both of those things, but neither to the extent that I don’t welcome more. I very much welcome more of whatever Tynan plans to give.
He sucks in a sharp intake of air, and I realize his other hand is now grasping his cock. Then he bends his legs, and the welcome heat and tension of his rod pushes against my entrance. Will he penetrate me while I’m standing? Is such a thing even possible?
One of his hands scoops under my thigh, lifting my leg, and my question is answered. His bent legs straighten as he thrusts, fully invading my cunny and lifting me onto my toes.
I gasp, and my body throbs from the penetration. But this time it’s even better, because I can see his pleasure too, beyond apparent in the flashing greens of his eyes.
“Your cunny feels so good around me.” He starts moving, gently sliding inside me.
“I can tell.”
He grins, then his expression darkens, and his eyes become less focused as he moves more rhythmically. His motions remain slow and gentle, but his depth becomes deeper and deeper and deeper. Cupping my bottom, he uses his large hand to oppose the motions of his hips, as his other hand continues to hold the back of my head.
His speed and vigor increase, and I realize he placed his hands to protect me. To keep my back and head from slamming into the wall with each of his hard thrusts. Again, Tynan is revealing his nature. The kindness his family failed to beat out of him. The tenderness he works very hard to hide.
“I’m too close,” he says, his voice tight. “I need to slow down.”
I’m not sure what he means. I lick my lips, planning to ask, but I’m unable to form words at the moment. By close, I can only guess that he is about to shoot his seed. I’m not ready for this to end, and so I’m happy for him to do whatever he needs to do to prolong it.
He pulls out, and our foreheads press together as we both struggle to regain control of our breathing and heartbeats.
“Can you turn around for me, Rose?” he asks. “I want to feel you come while I’m deep inside you.”
I’m not sure what he means by come, but I nod. Even though, with my hands bound, I’m not certain how I can fulfill the commitment.
But he unhooks the drying cloth and turns me to face the wall. I brace my still bound hands against the wooden panels as his fingers slide over my hot and sensitive damp places. I spread my legs wider, readying myself for impalement.
His finger slides over my nub, and I cry out, bucking back at the contact. He chooses that moment to drive back inside me.
“That’s it,” he says, as he wraps an arm tightly around me and pumps. “Good girl. You take me in so well.” His strokes come slowly at first. Sometimes he pauses, either fully inside or almost outside me. Sometimes he leaves several seconds between some of his movements, other times he drives rapidly, but no matter their speed, each thrust goes so deep it lifts me onto my toes as my hands slide against the wall.
“Well done.” He slams in so far that I feel the slap of his stones. “You’re taking in every bit of me.” His fingers slide over my belly, stroking his encouragement. “So brave. So strong. Good girl.” Each bit of his praise comes with another hard thrust.
